Bye-Bye Baby

by Morgana Phoenix

  Beth nearly whimpered in gratitude.

  “Thank you!”

  He inclined his head and watched as she struggled to remove the lid. The blisters on her fingers stretched the skin when she tried to move them.

  Damn it!

  With agile fingers, Cole lifted the lid and set it aside. Then he pushed away her table, ignored her weak gasp of protest and perched himself on the bed next to her hip.

  Beth stiffened. Her eyes went wide with wonder and confusion as she watched him pluck up the tray and hold it against the flat of his palm. He used his free hand to puncture bits of egg on the end of the fork. Then the fork was brought to her mouth.

  Her gaze flew up to his. He returned it calmly.

  “Open,” he ordered. “Open!” he repeated a bit more forcefully when she continued to gawk at him.

  Tentatively, her lips parted of their own volition and the fork slipped inside. Her mouth closed and it was drawn out, void of eggs. Something in the pits of his eyes pulsed. It was so quick, she almost missed it. The cold crumble of eggs passed her dry esophagus to tumble heedlessly to her stomach, untasted. The second helping was done in the same manner. Beth chewed and swallowed almost automatically, all the while, tumbling herself into his eyes. It was only when he gently smoothed a bit of egg off the corner of her mouth with the knuckle of one finger that she jolted out of her daze and remembered why she needed to keep her head around him.

  She jerked back from his touch, the spot stinging worse than the injuries on her arms

  “Why are you here?” she demanded a second time.

  He seemed to have realized he’d done something wrong. His fork bearing hand dropped to his lap and he regarded the silver instrument with something akin to accusation.

  “What did you expect I would do, Beth?” He raised his head and his blue eyes penetrated straight through her. “Nothing? Hang up the phone and stay home?”

  So you drove six hours to see someone you haven’t seen in four years?

  Instead she asked, “What does Cora think of you being here?”

  His brows crinkled together, forming a deep groove between his eyes. “Cora? Why would—”

  Dr. Patterson appeared in the doorway, her chart in his hands. The pale, morning light sparked off his bald spot before he raised his head. He smiled.

  “Good morning!”

  Cole rose off the bed, taking her breakfast with him as the doctor took his place at Beth’s bedside.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked kindly.

  Beth wanted to tell him confused, surprised, and sad, but she had a feeling he wasn’t referring to her emotional wellbeing.

  “I’m fine,” she lied.

  The doctor studied the clipboard in his hand. “No pain?”

  “A little, but it’s mostly itchy.”

  He nodded, raising his head. “That’s perfectly normal. Has anyone come to see you about the bandages?”

  Beth shook her head.

  He scribbled something down on the chart. “I’ll make sure a nurse comes in to help you. Unless…” He flicked the top of his pen and turned twinkling eyes towards Cole. “Your friend would like to do it?”

  “Oh he’s not—”

  “I’m not—”

  Tension followed their automatic response and the doctor’s eyebrows went up. He rapped his pen on the clipboard and regarded them quizzically.

  “I can do it if someone can bring me the cream,” Beth said finally.

  The right side of the doctor’s mouth lifted into a grimace. “I’m afraid it’s a two person job. You’re not just doing one arm and your hands are burned too badly for you to wrap them up properly on your own.”

  Cole took a step forward. The tray made a clanging sound when he set it down on the table.

  “How badly?” he demanded.

  The doctor blinked. “Well, the areas vary, but between first and second degree burns. It shouldn’t take too long to heal with proper care. It’s worse around her hands and wrists where she reached into the fire—”

  Blue eyes shot like razor sharp daggers in Beth’s direction. “Why the hell would you reach into the fire?”

  The doctor seemed startled by the degree of Cole’s outrage. His gray eyes widened and darted between them.

  “I … I thought you knew…”

  Cole folded his arms and Beth couldn’t help noticing just how much he’d filled out over the years. His lanky frame had expanded across the chest and along his arms where the fabric of his coat bulged around his biceps. Part of her wondered if he’d started working out, and for whose benefit that was.

  “I knew there was a fire, but the nurse didn’t tell me anything else.” He told the doctor while never taking his sparking gaze off Beth. “Care to enlighten me?” This was said to Beth.

  “It was nothing,” she muttered, not understanding why he cared.

  If that was supposed to appease him, she was sorely mistaken. If anything, his features only seemed to darken further.

  “Nothing doesn’t give you second degree burns!” he shot back. “What the hell did you do?”

  Her own temper crackled to life. “How is that any of your business?”

  He took a step forward. “You made it my business the minute you put me down as your emergency contact.”

  She threw up her hands in exasperation—a big mistake. They struck her lap and she nearly blacked out as the pain momentarily paralyzed her. Her fingers screamed beneath the wrapping. The world swayed, flickered between black and color before she squeezed her eyes shut tight and doubled over, cradling her trembling hands closer to her as though she could shield them from the white hot spears of agonizing ache.

  “Beth?” Cole reached her before the doctor could. But he didn’t touch her. “Do something!” he snarled at the other man, not that he had to.

  The doctor was already skirting around the bed towards the door. “I’ll get the morphine!”

  “No!” Beth struggled through every breath. “No morphine!”

  “You’re in pain!” Cole snapped at her.

  She shook her head wildly, brittle locks flying around her face. “No morphine. I’m okay.” She forced herself to straighten. “It was nothing.”

  Cole looked like he was ready to punch a hole into the wall. “You’ve always been a stubborn, pigheaded woman, but goddamn it!”

  She glared at him, but spoke to the doctor still standing in the doorway. “No morphine. I’ll be fine.”

  Neither Cole, nor the doctor looked convinced, but neither pushed her. The doctor returned to the bed and began the process of checking her vitals. He tried to be cheerful, but it was hard to do when the other man in the room was filling the space with his roiling fury.

  “I believe you’re well enough to go home,” he said carefully. “So long as there’s someone there who can help you.” He looked to Cole meaningfully. “You won’t have full function of your hands for a while and it’s crucial you keep them clean and properly wrapped.”

  “Is there someone at home, Beth?”

  The question was a double edged sword. She could say no and remain in the hospital, or she could say yes and lie just to save face. It was her pride that spoke.

  “Yes.” She was careful to keep her gaze locked with the doctor and not the figure looming larger than life across the room. “There’s someone.”

  The doctor smiled at her kindly and told her he would sign her release papers. She could go home within the hour. Then he left and Beth was alone with her demons, or demon as it were.

  “I guess that’s everything,” Cole said after a long stretch of silence. “You seem to have it all under control.”

  Beth nodded, studying her mummified hands. “Yeah.”

  She felt rather than saw him move to the door.

  He left without a word.

  The cab ride home was a single shot down Twelfth Avenue. Her squat little building seemed to loom suddenly amidst the houses. Its white walls gleamed in the sharp afternoon sun as
Beth climbed out and stumbled her way inside.

  The place still smelled of smoke, burnt plastic, and chemicals. She knew without having stepped into her apartment that all her worldly possessions would be embedded with the stench, possibly forever. But at least, unlike the other four suites that had been destroyed by the inferno that had run rampant through the building the night before, hers had been spared by sheer luck. The fire department had arrived just as the flames had started consuming the flat next to hers, the one that belonged to four year old Meggie Fletcher and her mother, Rosie.

  Rosie was a nurse at the old retirement home eight blocks away. It was how she and Beth had bonded. Meggie was usually left at home with Rosie’s eighty year old grandmother while Rosie worked nights. Most nights, when Beth was home, she took Meggie; but that night, Beth had to work and Jean had been watching the girl. It had been some kind of miracle that propelled Beth to go home early.

  It had been Beatrice, actually, Beth’s shift supervisor, but the timing was just too good not to think some holy intervention had taken place.

  Beth had arrived just as people were screaming and leaving the building. Her first thought had immediately gone to Meggie; Jean often took her medication and passed out watching Jay Leno. Nothing short of a nuke ever woke her up and if that were the case, that little girl was still up there.

  One frantic glance over the frightened faces crowding the lawn like disembodied spirits told her what she already knew: Meggie wasn’t there.

  Dropping everything, Beth shoved her way past the mob pushing their way out. The foyer was already thick with the stench of smoke. People were coughing, some were crying, but they were all scared. No one tried to stop her when she bypassed the elevators and took the emergency staircase to the second floor.

  The smoke was thicker here. Flames licked the corridor walls like hungry tongues, leaving black streaks in its wake. She couldn’t tell from there just how far the fire had spread through the walls, but she knew she needed to move fast.

  Fishing into her pocket, she dug out her keys and flipped to the one Rosie had given her. Her hands shook. Her vision blurred behind the sharp sting of tears. She coughed and tried to keep her chin tucked against her chest like that could somehow protect her from inhaling.

  “Meggie!”

  The door gave easily once unlocked and Beth stumbled into the apartment. She slammed the door shut behind her, hoping that would keep the fire at bay long enough for her to find the little girl.

  Jean was reclined in the velvet armchair, her breathing fast and erratic as half the apartment was devoured by a wall of flames.

  “Jean!”

  Torn between finding Meggie and waking the other woman, Beth did the only thing she could think of, she turned on her heels and bolted towards the back of the apartment, screaming for Meggie.

  The apartment was laid out mostly like Beth’s, but with two extra rooms whereas Beth only had the one. She knew from memory that Jean’s bedroom came first, then Rosie’s. Meggie’s room was all the way at the back, a fact Rosie told her once was deliberate to protect the girl in case of a break in. Something told Beth Rosie hadn’t thought of fires.

  “Meggie!”

  She slammed into the door. Pain splintered up her shoulder, but that was nothing compared to the backlash of smoke that rose up and slammed into her like a demon rising from hell. The entire wall behind the bed was blackened. The pretty purple wallpaper was reduced to smears of char. The fire hadn’t passed through yet, but it would. Soon.

  Coughing and gagging, Beth reared back. Her arm shot up to protect her face.

  “Meggie! Where are you?”

  For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat and the shriek of fire alarms. Then, like the quietest mew of a kitten, she heard it. The sob.

  Whirling on her heels, she pushed through the door across from Meggie’s room.

  It was the wrong thing to do. The backdraft sent the flames lunging into Beth’s face. Her scream was suffocated by the fist of heat that slammed into her windpipe. She doubled over as the soft tissues of her esophagus were seared. The burn combined with the sharp sting of smoke nearly sent her to the floor. It was the soft cry of her name that propelled her up.

  Tiny in her pink pajamas, Meggie looked up at her from the tub. Her fluffy white bunny was blackened, but as unharmed as she was. She was coughing. Her clothes were singed. Her cheeks smudged with tears and heat. She peered at Beth through the wall of flames that separated them, her blue eyes enormous.

  “Beth!”

  Straightening off the wall, Beth took a step forward, mind reeling. “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here. I’m coming. Just stay where you are, okay?”

  Meggie nodded obediently.

  Thinking quickly, Beth knew what needed to be done and prayed she was right.

  “Meggie, turn the water on. The blue one,” she said, pointing as far as she could to the knob with the bright, blue rubber gripper. It was the only nozzle Meggie was ever allowed to touch.

  “I’ll get wet!” Meggie protested.

  Beth nodded. “That’s right. Go on. Turn it on.”

  Uncertain, but scared, Meggie turned the nozzle and the shower burst to life, dosing her, soaking her. Her squeak was muffled, but Beth heard it.

  “Just keep it turned on, okay?” she told the girl as her gaze swung over the room. She spotted the towel hanging off the rack. The corner had caught fire, but she snatched it up, smacked the flames out and threw it at Meggie. “Get that nice and wet and wrap it around yourself. Over your head, okay?”

  Meggie did and sat in a small, wet huddle on the floor of the tub, waiting for Beth to save her. And Beth saw no other choice.

  “Okay, now hold still, okay?”

  Not waiting for a response this time, she took a deep, smoke filled breath and reached through the flames. Her hands closed around the girl as the fire claimed strips of her skin. She snarled through the pain, but gave her mind no chance to catch up as she hauled Meggie free, whipped her over the flames and staggered out of the bathroom with Meggie clasped to her chest.

  “Okay?” she asked, never stopping as she sprinted to the front of the house where the fire had consumed one entire wall, including their path to the door.

  Meggie’s head bobbed against Beth’s chin. Relived, Beth tugged the dripping towel more securely around the girl.

  Jean was still in the armchair, still lost in her medication induced sleep. Every so often, her body would shudder around a cough, but otherwise, she was out. Beth growled deep in her raw throat.

  Carefully, she set Meggie down, pulled the towel more tightly around her face and mouth and turned to the older woman.

  “Jean! Jean, wake up!”

  The woman slept on.

  Desperate, terrified, and seeing splotches of black as her brain was deprived of oxygen, Beth did the only thing she could think of; she drew her hand back and smacked the woman with all the strength in her. The sharp sting blazed a white hot path of agony up her hand and arm, making the burned areas scream, nearly making Beth scream. But Jean bolted upright. Her gray eyes widened as the room came into focus. She cried out and lunged from her chair, much too fast for a woman brushing so close to a hundred. Her mouth opened as though about to speak, but Beth cut her off with a shake of her head.

  “Stay with her!” she shouted over the roar of the fire.

  Jean seemed to only then notice the tiny bundle standing quietly next to them. Her gnarled hands reached for the girl and she was drawn into her grandmother’s side.

  Leaving them, Beth ran to the window. It was roughly fifteen feet to the soft incline of grass at the bottom. Further down towards the front of the building, she could make out the small cluster of people, but they were too far to call upon for help. It was up to her.

  Dragging the window open, she popped the screen out. Then she ran around the room, grabbing cushions, pillows, and blankets and tossed them through, aiming them on top of each other the best
she could. Someone must have noticed, because several people ran over.

  “Arrange them!” she called down to them. “Hurry!”

  There was a frenzy of motion as the cushions were laid out in a square followed by pillows and blankets. Some included their coats and whatever else they could find. Realizing it was the best she could do, Beth turned to the two watching her.

  “Her first,” she said, pointing at Meggie.

  Jean nodded and pushed Meggie over to her.

  “No…” Meggie whined.

  Beth grabbed her before she could back away too far. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be right behind you, okay?”

  “No!” Meggie began to cry.

  “Sorry, baby. You’ll thank me later.”

  Scooping her up despite her thrashing and screaming, Beth marched with her to the window, took a deep breath, prayed to God she was doing the right thing and tossed.

  Meggie’s scream shattered the night like the crack of a gun firing. Then there was silence as she struck the pile dead center, bounced once, then lay still. Beth’s lungs closed.

  Oh God! Oh God!

  A woman scrambled onto the mound, grabbed Meggie and wrenched the towel off her face. Meggie’s wide, tear filled eyes blinked up at her. A collective sigh of relief washed over the crowd.

  “She’s okay!” the woman called up while dragging a frantic Meggie off the pile.

  Nearly crippled with relief, Beth turned to the other woman. “Okay, you next.”

  Jean shook her head. “You.”

  Beth almost sobbed. “Not you too. I can’t pick you up!”

  “You go,” Jean wheezed, her voice muffled behind the hand she had pressed over her mouth and nose.

  “Get out the fucking window!” Beth snarled, having had enough.

  It was harder getting Jean’s weight up on the window ledge. But the woman teetered a second before heaving herself out into the night. She hit the mound on her side and lay there a moment trying to catch her breath, and possibly assessing for damages. Those few seconds were enough for Beth’s lungs to shriek in panic. It was enough for her knees to buckle and send her crashing to the hardwood, gasping for air. Something struck her temple. The pain sparked the entire one side of her face. She blinked and found herself face down under the window. The room was a bright orange like the first splash of color against the morning sky. It even had a certain sort of beauty to it.